Clearwater
by AlyceMcKnight
Summary: "'You know, in the mythology, one of the stories says the dragon ended up in the sky because he protected the golden apples of Hesperides with valor.' Draco couldn't help but crack a smile. It was just like Hermione Granger to try and comfort him with mythology." In which, Draco Malfoy saves Hermione Granger after her torture. Love on the run never was easy...
1. Chapter 1

In all the times Draco Malfoy imagined Hermione Granger writhing around on the floor, screaming, this certainly wasn't what he had in mind. Draco's aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, straddled the poor witch questioning her relentlessly. A small dagger in her hand which sliced Hermione's skin whenever she didn't answer how Bellatrix wanted her to, also using the _Cruciatus_ Curse just to see the Mudblood squirm. All because of the bloody sword of Godric Gryffindor. _If Granger would just tell her where they got it…_

Bellatrix gave a sigh of defeat, seeing the _Cruciatus_ Curse wasn't enough to break the Gryffindor witch, before a devilish smile crossed her face. She held down Hermione's head and began to carve something into her arm. Draco could only imagine what it was. The witch's screams changed once again from mostly cries to agonizing, bloodcurdling shrieks that sent shivers down his spine.

He'd already betrayed them. Except only he and the Golden Trio knew. _That_ was Harry Potter locked up in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, but Draco, despite seeing through Granger's clever hex, lied. He really didn't know why. He didn't particularly like Potter, but yet the thought of Voldemort killing Harry without a second glance made Draco's stomach churn.

The image of Dumbledore's fall from the Astronomy Tower still haunted him. He wasn't fond of his old Headmaster, but he would be daft to say that Dumbledore had done nothing for him. Dumbledore had saved him from himself. From killing someone and regretting it for the rest of his life. From fully accepting his place as a Death Eater. Watching the old man fall, almost in slow motion, with his robes flying out around him and the darkness consuming him as he sunk lower and lower to the ground.

Draco hadn't slept well since that night and he doubted he ever would again. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl and made him instinctively curl his fingers around his wand in his pocket.

Bellatrix finished her handiwork and left the witch there on the floor. Hermione stared up at the intricate chandelier just above her. The pain in her left arm throbbed intensely, but she barely noticed as her mind was elsewhere. She knew that based upon what Bellatrix had carved into her arm that her "Penelope Clearwater, half blood" guise expended. Bellatrix sliced into her arm so precisely Hermione didn't even have to glance down to know what it read. She shifted slightly allowing her arm to bleed onto the floor. She hoped that her dirty blood stained.

There was a lull as Peter Pettigrew went down the steps fetch the Gringotts goblin. He glanced at Hermione's crumpled form on the floor of his childhood home. Part of her hair clung to her face, while the rest spread out on the floor and around her like a lion's mane. _Figures._ Only his parents, Bellatrix, Hermione, and himself remained in the room. The Snatchers had abandoned their guard of the trio's belongings for a moment. As everyone turned to see Peter heading down the steps, he carefully summoned Hermione's bag. Luckily, he was adept at silent spells.

Her eyes caught his. She looked suspicious. Her hazel eyes watching him with burning intensity. She didn't trust him. Why would she? He had bullied her almost relentlessly since first year, although since third year when she punched him the face, he fixated more on Potter and Weasley. They were more fun anyway. Watching as Weasley's face turned the color of his hair as he clutched his wand so tightly his knuckles turned white. Potter always tried to maintain his composure, especially around Granger, but he could always see Harry's green eyes ignite whenever he said something snarky. Draco pressed his index finger to his lips quickly and gave her a knowing look, hoping "The Brightest Witch of Her Age" caught on. The look in her eyes shifted from suspicion and hatred to one of curiosity and maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep down, just a fraction of hope was left in Granger's tattered soul.

Peter reappeared with the goblin. Bellatrix pounced on him and his parents intently watched as Bellatrix questioned him. The goblin remained mostly stoic. The questioning was much shorter this time, the goblin retaining only a small scratch from the soon as Bellatrix turned from the goblin he turned back to Hermione, ready to turn her over to Greyback, who had re-entered the room and looked at the witch hungrily.

Draco knew this was his only chance. He pulled out his wand and quickly stunned Greyback. With the element of surprise on his side he quickly disarmed Bellatrix, knowing his mother, the only other armed witch in the room, would never fight against him.

"Draco! What is the meaning of this?" his aunt screamed as she lunged towards him with her knife still in hand. He moved towards Hermione who still lay on the floor, moving closer and closer to unconsciousness.

" _Flipendo!_ " he casted at the top of the chandelier.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion then, just like at Dumbledore's death. Draco could see his father struggling for his mother's wand, already deciding he was a blood traitor. Bellatrix was running out of the way of the chandelier which was tumbling straight for her. And Granger just lay there, as if she had accepted whatever was about to happen to her. Whether the chandelier came down and crushed her, or whether somehow miraculously, she survived, it didn't matter to her either way. It wasn't as if she could do anything about it. The _Cruciatus_ had left her too weak and jumbled to even think of a spell to stop the chandelier, and even if she could, the pain from the cuts was now excruciating, and who knew what other injuries she had.

Draco ran towards the falling chandelier and in one swift movement grabbed Granger's hand and disapparated before his father could fire a curse at him. Although, a wave of broken glass followed them and sliced their skin as it fell on top of them after they landed.

They ended up in the middle of the forest near a lake. It was one of Draco's favorite spots as a child, but not one which his parents would suspect him to go. Draco immediately laid Hermione onto the ground and rolled up her sleeve seeing the word "Mudblood" carved into her skin.

"Malfoy...no…"

Draco shook his head, confused. "But…"

"Take me back!" she said breathlessly. "Harry and Ron, they need me."

"I can't do that. You know I can't do that. Just hold still…"

She started to cry, feeling helpless. She wondered what happened to Harry and Ron. She knew they were more than capable of getting away, especially if they found help. The wards obviously weren't too strong around the Manor or else Draco wouldn't have been able to disapparate with her. But she couldn't help but worry that Greyback or Bellatrix had gotten to them, especially after Draco's apparent betrayal.

"It's...It's going to scar," Draco said.

She looked down at the new flesh which had grown over her wound. The word still visible and readable. Draco's wand still hovered above her flesh.

"I think Bellatrix cursed it somehow. I think I'm stuck with it…" Her words got quieter and quieter. While Draco had healed her arm the best he could, there were other issues he had to deal with. He quickly used his wand to take a survey of her injuries. A few cuts and heavy bruising on her arms and along her hips where Bellatrix had straddled her. A broken rib. A concussion from her struggles. The _Cruciatus_ had also left her head jumbled and confused. Out of everything that seemed the most tragic; the only person he knew who could keep up in a battle of wits, who had better grades than him, who was smarter than any Pureblood he knew, and she very well could lose her mind if he didn't act quickly.

He opened her bag and started pulling items out, but with the magical extension charm and no idea how her bag was organized, he couldn't find anything. He just began Accio-ing anything that he thought might be useful. He had Dittany, Skele-Gro, and a Sleep Potion. Draco saved the Dittany and instead used his wand to heal the cuts. His wand was made almost especially for healing magic, something which was ironic when you looked at it. _Hawthorn unicorn hair 10" reasonably springy._

Draco carefully moved Hermione's bushy brown locks out of her face and tilted her head back slightly. Using his thumb, he carefully opened her mouth and forced the Skele-Gro potion down her throat. The day was turning to night rapidly and they were on the lakeside completely open to attack. Draco remembered a nearby cave and figured it was the best place of any others nearby.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered, smirking to himself as he remembered Granger casting that spell from their first year. He had been so jealous that a girl, and a Mudblood, at that had mastered such a simple spell before him. Watching her feather float high up into the air had solidified his boyhood hatred for the witch.

Hermione's unconscious body rose from the ground and he walked carefully to the cave, keeping her just in front of him as he did. Unable to cast a Lumos, slowed him down, but it was probably from the best. They were probably the most wanted witch and wizard at that moment, probably only underneath Harry Potter himself.

He knew that he had just signed his death sentence. If not to Azkaban, then to Voldemort. After this stunt, all a Death Eater would need is to catch sight of him and he would be dead. Draco hoped there was a way he could play it off. _I was trying to deliver her straight to you, My Lord._ Or maybe, _I wanted to kill her myself._ That one would only work if Granger died.

It shouldn't bother him, the thought of Granger dying. She was friends with Harry Potter, a Mudblood, and the only one standing in his way from being top in the class. Yet, all of her knowledge and wit would go to waste. He wasn't some bloody knowledge loving Ravenclaw, but he hated seeing good potential go to waste, even that of a Mudblood.

Once they reached the cave, he sat Granger down carefully and found some blankets in her bag. He laid one on the ground and levitated her onto it before throwing the other two on top of her. She needed them more than he did. He probably wouldn't sleep anyway. He would only dream of the Astronomy Tower and wake up panicked, in a cold sweat.

"Malfoy…" she groaned, turning towards the Slytherin wizard.

"Careful," he said. "Don't move. I gave you some Skele-Gro for your rib."

She nodded and stayed still.

"Here." He moved towards her, holding the sleep potion in his hand. "Drink this. You need to rest. I promise you'll feel better when you wake up."

He placed the bottle to her lips. Her eyes were looking right up at him. They were staring at him, looking through him, like he was window to another dimension.

"What?"

"Why are you doing this, Malfoy? Why are you helping me?"

"I don't know, Clearwater. Just drink."

"Clearwater?"

"That's your name isn't it?"

She stayed quiet and allowed him to pour the potion into her mouth, It didn't take long for the effects to kick in and soon her eyelids began to droop and within minutes Granger was fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy could already see the _Daily Prophet_ headlines. _Voldemort's Golden Boy Elopes With Gryffindor Princess. Malfoy Heir Gives Up Fortune For Mudblood._ He sat with his knees to his chest and his hands in his hair. The reality of the situation was setting in. He could never see his family again. That normally wouldn't bother him too much if it weren't for his mother; the only other Malfoy he truly cared about. Draco had once looked up to his father as well. His father had once been someone to look up to. But ever since fourth year, when the Death Eaters had really begun to resurge and Voldemort once again regained his body, his father had deteriorated into someone Draco didn't want to be around. Someone obsessed with blood status and maintaining Pureblood lineage. While Draco ultimately thought that Purebloods were superior wizards, he wasn't obsessed like his father who spent every living moment trying to eradicate them from the Earth.

Hermione began to stir. Pain still plagued her body, but it was duller, a simple annoyance. She could feel the blankets on top of her and the hard ground beneath her. All of her senses were heightened as if she were waking for the first time. She could feel the cool air, but could tell it got warmer towards her feet. _A cave._ That's when she remembered. Her eyes shot open and looked towards Draco. He didn't see her at first and Hermione used that to her advantage.

She felt her wand which was miraculously still in her pocket. She drew it quickly and shot a silent _Stupefy._

Caught off guard, Draco barely missed her spell, but dodged out of the way just in time for the red jolt of light to disappear into the grey stone behind him.

"What the fuck?!" Draco swore, drawing his wand.

Hermione was now upright. Her hair a tangled mess, a few leaves and twigs had found it way into it. She looked like some sort of wild woman.

"You kidnapped me!" Hermione aimed her wand and sent another silent spell. Draco dodged out of the way, much easier this time.

"I saved you! If it weren't for me you'd be dead!"

"Did you ever think that I had plan? That Harry or Ron had a plan?"

"You really had a plan?" Draco said, mockingly. "In your state? Plus, I doubt Potter and Weasley could've told the door from the window."

"You underestimate them."

"You overestimate them. Bravery's great and all but it can only get you so far. Why do think they held onto you for all those years?"

Hermione just stared at him then. Her hand wrapping her wand angrily. The same motion amused him when Weasley did it, but on Granger, it was terrifying.

"How dare you! _Incendio!_ "

A stream of flames flew from Granger's wand. Draco jumped to the side, attempting to dodge the fire, but instead the flames grew and crashed into his shoulder. He hit the ground clutching his shoulder.

Hermione gasped. She hadn't meant to actually hurt Draco; just intimidate him to get him to take her back to Harry and Ron, or better yet, leave her alone. She rushed over to him and dropped to her knees.

"I'm sorry…" she said.

"What did you think was going to happen?" Draco growled, his voice weak and full of pain. He sat up hesitantly.

"Let me heal it. Take off your shirt," she said, holding her wand at the ready.

Draco smirked. He looked down at her wand and back up at her.

"In most other circumstances, Clearwater, I would be thrilled. But I can't let you heal it. You still have too much healing to do yourself. It would tire you out."

"Oh, but I can duel?"

"I didn't start that. Now, why don't you pocket that and we can talk about this?" Draco pushed the tip of her wand away from him.

Hermione nodded and placed her wand back into her pocket. She couldn't help but see the charred cloth from where the spell had hit him. The way Draco jerkily moved and closed his eyes as he stood up, told her that it was painful.

"Well, at least I know you have your wand.I wasn't sure if the Snatchers had taken it. I guess we can get rid of this one." Draco reached into his the pocket opposite the one he kept his own wand and pulled out a slightly curved and extremely unyielding wand.

Hermione immediately recognized it as the wand which had tortured her. Bellatrix's. She watched helplessly as the witch had pointed the wand and the red light had hit her in the chest. She almost wished that a green light had ended her suffering. How poetic it would be for Hermione Granger, to die with a burst of bright green light.

"I'm sure you would like to do the honors," Draco said, handing her the wand, the tip facing away from her.

Hermione carefully wrapped her hand around the wand. It was rough and fit her hand awkwardly. She stared it at for a few seconds. She grabbed both ends and felt her muscles tense to break the wand, but her arms went limp before she had a chance.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, looking at her curiously.

"I can't do it. I can't do it, Malfoy."

She ran out of the cave. Draco was tempted to follow her to make sure she didn't disapparate. He realized she was probably too upset and too weak to disapparate without splinching. Draco barely knew the first thing about comforting someone. He'd only comforted a few people in his entire life. His mom, arguably the easiest, as just his presence was required to comfort his mother. Pansy, whom he particularly didn't want to comfort, but it normally just meant insulting Gryffindors together something which came quite easily for him. And finally, himself, who he hadn't really figured out how to comfort yet.

He started a fire and sat with his knees to his chest. Draco watched as the flames danced up from the base of the fire to the top where they broke apart into tiny cinders falling back to the base. Everything ended up back where it started.

Granger's sobs were deafening and he tried not to focus on them. He had taken her away from her friends, from the fight, from everything she cared about. She probably would've prefered to die, because at least her death would mean something. She would be a martyr.

Draco got too close to the fire and felt the burn on his shoulder surge with pain. He backed away and used his wand to lower the fire slightly. Granger's sobs stopped and he looked outside the cave to make sure he could still see her shadow looming just outside the entrance. Instead he saw the sun dipping below the tree line, swirls of pink, orange, and yellow morphing together in the sky.

"You know it's funny, Muggles and Wizards both see the same sunset and it's equally as magical." Granger walked back in the cave. Her eyes red and puffy from the crying, but her skin had more color and her posture was better, as if the crying had somehow helped her body heal.

"You're starting to sound like Lovegood, Clearwater. You hungry?"

Hermione nodded. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, probably before the torture. Once he mentioned it, she realized the sharp pain in her stomach.

"Yeah," she said. "I think there's some stuff in my bag."

Draco handed Hermione her bag. She rifled through it and pulled out a few things. She set it to the side and looked back up at him.

"I have some oatmeal. I thought I had more, but Ron has a bad habit of sneaking things out of my bag. I also have the stuff for s'mores for afterwards."

"Oatmeal's fine."

Hermione transfigured a nearby rock into a pot and cooked the oatmeal quickly over the fire. There were various magical ways to cook it, but Hermione always liked cooking the Muggle way. It was one of the few things she had left of her parents. Both of her parents had loved to cook and passed that onto Hermione. Every Sunday morning they would all wake up early and make breakfast together and promptly go back to bed.

"You're crying," Draco broke her thoughts.

Hermione reached up and felt the slick tears on her cheeks. She hadn't noticed, but it was obviously the thoughts of her parents which had brought on the sudden bout of crying.

"I think my mind's still a little mess up from the _Cruciatus_. It's nothing."

Draco knew she was lying immediately. He didn't press it though. He wasn't there to be her friend or a shoulder to cry on, he had saved her life, that was it. And that was complicated enough…

Hermione finished the oatmeal. She transfigured two more rocks into bowls and a couple sticks into spoons. She handed one to Draco.

They ate in relative silence. Their spoons scraping their bowls and only the crickets and occasional bird broke the quiet. Both were ravenously hungry. While Draco had sustained himself while Hermione had been unconscious, he was a terrible cook, even cooking spells. He'd never had to use them, so Hermione's oatmeal, while it was bland and a little too thick for his usual tastes, he was thankful for something decent.

"Do you like s'mores?"

Draco nodded.

Hermione transfigured their spoons back into sticks and stuck a marshmallow on the end of each one.

"Wait, what am supposed to do with that?"

"Roast it over the fire."

"Why would I do that? I could just use _Incendio_."

"It's the Muggle way. You don't have to it if you don't want to. I just like it." She held her stick over the fire, watching the marshmallow get softer and softer, starting to char slightly on the outside.

Draco shrugged and used his wand to instantly roast his marshmallow. He at the s'more gleefully and finished it quickly.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes."  
"What are we doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we can't stay here forever. The Snatchers are surely looking for us, your parents, Harry, and Ron…" Her voice drifted off when she said Ron's name.

"You don't think I know that?! You needed a place to recover. As soon as you're back to full health we'll leave."

"But, where will we go, Malfoy? We can't just pop off to one of the safe houses on either side! Merlin, they probably think I'm dead."

"Clearwater, listen. I was just trying to get you away from Greyback. If I didn't, no one else would've. I'll help you find your precious Potter and Weasel once your better."

Hermione's face softened.

"Thank you, Malfoy. But honestly, I think it's time to stop calling him Weasel…"

"Oh, that's right. You guys have a thing…"

"It's not a thing!"

"Then, what is it?"

Hermione sat defiantly with her chin pointing out slightly.

"I don't feel like it's any of your business."

Draco smirked.

"It's alright, Clearwater. I couldn't care less about you and Weasel." He stood up, brushing off his black trousers. "Get some sleep."

"What's with the Clearwater thing? Why do you keep calling me that?"

Draco smiled and looked down at her.

"You're smart, Clearwater. Figure it out."

Draco waited outside the cave until Hermione was asleep. The night air was cool, almost too cool. The moon was full and bright. He shuddered, thinking about Greyback and all of his werewolf glory.

He walked to the lake and crouched down by the water. He cupped his hands and splashed the water onto his face. The cold water refreshed him, but it didn't solve what was running circles in his mind. Draco took off his shirt, a black button down, and threw it aside. He placed a waterproofing charm on the rest and waded into the water. His pale skin looked translucent in the moonlight.

Draco waded until the burn on his shoulder was fully submerged. He felt instantly relief. He looked down at the injury, it spread from his upper bicep onto his collarbone. It was red and raw and even bleeding in some places, He took out his wand and muttered a quick healing spell. It took much longer than he expected, but through the clear water, he was able to repair himself.

Author's Note: Hello! I was expecting to only have like 1 or 2 followers/favorites on this story, but I certainly have many more than that! Thank you. I thought since there's a handful of you, I would introduce myself. Hello, my name is Alyce McKnight. I'm a university student and I hope to one day make a living writing. I also write on , all of my non-fanfiction is over there and if you are a fellow Figgie or if you're interested come over and see me there! I'm new to , but not new to fanfiction. I've been reading fanfiction for the better part of my life and I've been writing it on and off for about 5 years now. This is, however, my first Draco/Hermione story, in fact, my first in the Harry Potter universe (although I've read my fair share). This story is a lot different from my typical writing style. I mostly write first person, but I love messing around with third person and I'm having a lot of fun with this story, I am a busy person, so I can't promise regular updates, but I can definitely be encouraged with helpful/constructive feedback ;) Thanks for reading! Please introduce yourself if you feel like it. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione heard Draco stir. The sun was beginning to rise above the horizon line and Hermione was just about to turn the last page of _Tales of Beedle the Bard_. It was the third time she had read it in its entirety and she still felt like she was missing something. Dumbledore left it to her for a reason. While it was quite obvious the Deathly Hallows were the key to defeating Voldemort, beyond that, there was nothing but mere children's stories.

"Have an affinity for children's literature, Clearwater?"

Hermione looked up and saw Draco sitting against the opposite wall. The blanket she had neglected since the early hours of the morning covering his waist and legs. His black button down shirt was wrinkled and buttoned up incorrectly. His white-blond hair stuck up at odd angles, but once he noticed, he quickly smoothed it back down. It was the most disheveled Hermione Granger had ever seen Draco Malfoy.

"Dumbledore left it to me. I'm trying to figure out what it means."

"They're just children's stories. It doesn't mean anything. He probably just thought you'd like some new reading material."

"But...the Deathly Hallows…"

"Are real, yes, but I sincerely hope you didn't need a children's book to figure that out…"

Hermione glared at him. He was infuriating. All throughout school he had always undermined her, despite still being below her in grades.

"Why do you always do that? You undermine me and make me feel like feel like I'm stupid! Are you jealous of my marks? Angry that a Mudblood has better marks than you?"

The use of the slur against herself surprised Draco. He never expected to hear "Mudblood" roll off her lips with such ferocity.

"Don't be daft! Your marks have nothing to do with my dislike for you. Besides, with you running around with Potter and Weasel, I have the best marks now."

"If you dislike me so much, why the Hell did you save my life?!"

Draco stayed silent. His hand instinctively curled around his wand. He watched Granger as she sat stiffly against the wall, waiting for an answer. Other than they went to school together, he had no real answer, at least not one he was willing to admit.

"A little trouble in paradise?" a sinister voice broke the silence.

Draco and Hermione both stood raising their wands.

Fenrir smirked. He stood wandless and with two cronies, assumed werewolves, also by his side.

"Draco Malfoy and his little Mudblood, my have we been looking for you two," he said, drawing closer to the pair. "Draco, your family misses you dearly. They are disappointed in you. Your mother is heartbroken, your father wants you dead. But, if we're being honest here, I always knew you were a filthy blood traitor."

Draco tensed, but refrained from firing a spell. They were outnumbered and it had to happen at the right time.

"And you," Fenrir said, nearing Hermione. "You were supposed to be mine. I hadn't decided what I was going to do with you yet. If was just going to kill you, or if I wanted you as part of my Army. It's been a long time since I turned one of you Order lot. Besides, you might put up a fight. I've always loved the ones who put up a fight."

He placed his hands around Hermione's neck from behind. She tensed at his touch and gripped her wand tightly.

"Get your hands off of me!" she screamed, attempting to wiggle from his grasp. It was futile.

Fenrir laughed and leaned down close to her ear. He whispered something which made all of the blood drain from her face.

"It's such a shame that you were born with no magical blood. You would make such a beautiful Pureblood witch. But I guess I'm lucky then, because I'll get you all to myself."

Draco held his wand at the ready, trying to think of a spell to cast which would fend off all three attackers at once.

" _Stupefy!_ " Hermione yelled. Fenrir was thrown against the cave wall, stunned.

" _Levicorpus!"_

Draco lifted the werewolf's momentarily stunned body and used it to trip up his friends, much like a bowling ball would knock over two pins.

Draco and Hermione began to run, dodging curses from their assailants. They ran uphill into the forest. Hermione sent back a few more stunning spells and Draco sent back a Killing Curse. It missed its mark. The pair came to the top of the hill. The trees cleared and they stood on the edge of a cliff that overlooked the sea.

"We could jump...stop ourselves at the bottom," Draco suggested. He looked at Hermione with concern as the werewolf, no longer stunned, and his two presumably werewolf friends drew closer, curses flying past their heads.

"They could too," she said. She looked up at Draco and then back at the three approaching enemies. She made a careful decision. "Trust me."

She grabbed his hand and disapparated.

When they landed, both were out of breath and hit the ground hard. Hermione reached for her wand which had fallen from her pocket when she landed.

"Where's Ron when you need him?" she muttered under her breath, standing up and walking out of Draco's line of sight.

As Draco turned to stand up, the room was illuminated by a fixture above his head. He realized they were in a house. It was modestly furnished and seemed quite pleasant. Although, there were some objects Draco was unfamiliar with. A large white box in what looked like the kitchen. In fact, the kitchen was full of contraptions he'd never seen before.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"London," she said. "House of some family friends of mine, the Wilkins."

"Muggles?"

Hermione shook her head and opened the refrigerator, frustrated to find it empty, although it was no surprise.

"They recently went on an extended holiday to Australia. Don't worry, they won't even know we were here."

Draco looked around the living room. There were pictures of a middle-aged couple all around the room. A few from their younger days and travels. Draco picked one up and glanced at the smiling couple that stood in front of the Eiffel Tower. It looked like something from the photo was missing. It was oddly centered and the couple's hands seemed to be floating in midair. Before he could take a closer look, the picture was blasted out of his hand.

"Have some respect, Malfoy! This isn't your house! These people might be Muggles, but they deserve their privacy."

"We're already using their house without their permission, Clearwater. I doubt looking at one photograph is going to hurt."  
Hermione held the photograph in her hand and looked down at it. She could see where she once stood with her parent's hands on her shoulders. They had taken the trip after her first year at Hogwarts, as a gift for her accomplishments and good marks.

"I know these people, Malfoy. It's different…" She placed the photograph face down on the counter and turned away from him so he couldn't tell she was holding back tears. "Are you hungry? There must be something left in these cupboards."

Opening the cupboards, she found multiple boxes of unused tea, crackers, and a few boxes of pasta. She pulled them out and started up the stove.

"Pasta and tea, okay?"

Draco nodded.

Throughout the meal, he noticed a change in Hermione. She was quiet and didn't say a word since before she had started cooking. She hadn't even glanced at him in an hour and hadn't turned a page in the book sitting next to her bowl of pasta in ten minutes.

"Are the people who lived here dead?" he asked, the silence shattering as if he had just broken through a glass window that was between them.

"No," Hermione said, simply. Her voice direct and steady.

"Then, why are you so upset?"

"There are things much worse than death, Malfoy. As I'm sure you know…" her voice drifted off and was barely a whisper.

"What happened? Imprisonment? Torture?"

Hermione shook her head. She looked down at her barely touched bowl of pasta. Her bushy brown locks covered her face and Draco didn't like not being able to read her expression.

"I really don't want to talk about it," she said, slamming her book shut. She stood up and walked out the dining room. Her bowl of pasta growing cold and neglected.

Draco was stunned. He hadn't thought it was that big of a deal. People die all the time. People get tortured or go missing everyday. It was war. He knew that and he knew Hermione did as well. Whoever these people were and whatever happened to them; it was personal.

Hermione ran into the bathroom and locked the door. She threw the book she had been reading, a simple spell book, to the side and felt herself begin to sob. After erasing her parent's memories of her, she thought she would never see the house again, or see the pictures she was once a part of. She knew if she survived the war, she could find them and reverse the charm, but that seemed so distant. A what if.

She looked down at the counter and saw her mother's silver pendant necklace with a charm in the shape of the lion from the Gryffindor seal. Her mother was the bravest person Hermione knew and she had bought it for her mother in Hogsmeade for their last Christmas. The new Mrs. Wilkins had probably found the necklace a bit odd and left it behind.

Hermione looked up from the necklace and up at her own reflection. Her face was streaked with dirt and mud. Her hair was harboring fugitive twigs and pine needles. She was still wearing the same clothes as the night she had been tortured. She couldn't even remember the last time she had taken a proper shower.

She began to undress and started the shower. She climbed under the warm stream of water and instantly felt her muscles relax as if she were Atlas and the world had just been lifted off her shoulders.

Draco finished off his pasta and looked at hers hungrily. He had no idea if she intended to finish it so he set it on the counter and figured they could place a warming charm on it later. Draco looked down at the sink feeling thirsty. Glancing around the cupboards he wondered which one held drinking glasses. He curiously began to sift through them finding a variety of Muggle cookware before coming across something that looked something like a cup. It was green, made out of clay and had orange polka dots speckled across its rough surface.

Draco scoffed. _Muggles and their idea of drinking glasses._ He examined the glass closer and noticed that on the very bottom of the glass something was written. In crude lettering the words, " _Hermione Granger, Age 8_ " were written. Draco suddenly felt a chill run over his body as the realization hit him. He thought back to the pictures and about how they seemed off. It was because someone was missing.

Hermione climbed out the shower and reached into her bag and pulled out a fresh pair of clothes. She changed and felt refreshed. She reached down and touched her mother's necklace. She fastened it around her neck and for the first time noticed the similarities between herself and her mother. The same eyes and mouth. A similar face shape. The same hair, but different colors.

She emerged from the bathroom only to be startled by a figure sitting just beside the door. Her hand clutched her wand instinctively and released it once she realized it was Draco.

He stood quickly and stood just slightly too close to her. His eyes were focused down on her and he held the handmade cup in his hands.

"Tell me about your parents, Clearwater."

A/n: Hello! Sorry for that cliffhanger ;). Anyway, I would like to apologize for the abundance of typos in the last chapter. Like I said, I'm new to this site so I'm still learning some of the formatting and I didn't realize links would be deleted. Also, this is a first draft. I am progressively going through and making some edits but please feel free to point any mistakes to me. :) I would love to know your thoughts on how this fic is going. Thank you!

-Alyce McKnight


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione stood in shock. She looked down at the cup she'd made as a child and back up at the pale Slytherin holding it. She wasn't expecting him to put it all together.

"I-I really don't want to talk about it, Malfoy," she said. Hermione attempted to move past Draco, but he sidestepped and once again blocked her path.

"Listen, I understand that it's probably hard to talk about. But if you don't talk about it with anyone you'll never feel better."

Hermione could tell he was trying his best to comfort her and sound sincere, but coming from his lips, it seemed foreign.

"You won't understand," she said, her voice gaining strength and volume with each word. "You have no idea what it's like to have to lose the two people who mean the most to you!" She could feel tears coming to her eyes again, but she refused to let them fall.

Draco narrowed his eyes. The witch, for probably the first time in her life, had no idea what she was talking about.

"Yeah, you're right. Because I never had anyone mean that much to me anyways." He brushed one of his hands through his hair.

Hermione suddenly fell silent and looked up at him. She could feel the bite behind his words, which shivered down her body.

"Here, take this bloody cup or whatever the Hell it is. If you decide that you want to talk, I'll be in the sitting room."  
He flung the cup into her hands and stormed off towards the main room. Hermione watched him for a few seconds before tearing her eyes away and looking back down at the cup in her hands. She honestly couldn't believe her parents had kept such an ugly keepsake. It was crudely made and the colors clashed horribly. It should've been destroyed by the memory charm. But even she had forgotten about the little cup. Hermione then rushed to her old bedroom. _If this survived, what else did…_

Hermione flung open to find that her bedroom had been converted into an office. However, the paint color, an off white, was the same and there was still a closet in the far corner of the room. She opened it and found an assortment of dusty jackets belonging to both of her parents, but in the very back was an old cardboard box. Inside, underneath old blankets she found her Hogwarts letter. Still perfectly creased and the wax seal broken precisely, in order to save it, the letter was in perfect condition. She remembered the day Dumbledore hand delivered it.

It was mid-September, her birthday to be exact, and she had just returned from Muggle school where they had celebrated in class. She walked into her house and saw Dumbledore sitting on her sofa, while her parents sat opposite him in their respective chairs.

"Hello there, Miss Granger," the headmaster said. He was dressed in a long blue robe and his beard and hair were worn loosely, yet neatly. The young Hermione was intrigued by the strange man. She sat down her bag full of books.

"Hello..." she said curiously.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore," he said. "Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was just discussing with your parents about your abilities."

 _Witchcraft and Wizardry?_ "My abilities?" the young witch asked.

"Yes, tell me Miss Granger, have you felt different? Like you were special?"

Hermione meekly nodded.

The headmaster smiled at her and set a book on the coffee table in front of him. It was a rather thick volume, at least 600 pages.

"If you can move that book, standing where you are, it's yours."

Young Hermione's eyebrows rose. There was nothing she wanted more than a new book, and one which looked so old and so large, was most intriguing to her.

"Professor," she said. "I'm not sure I can do that."  
Her parents looked between each other, but quickly glanced back to their daughter.

"Sure, you can Miss Granger. You've done it before, haven't you?"

"But...that was on accident."

Her parents gasped, nearly inaudibly and looked at their daughter with a strange mix of wonderment and delight.

"Well then, make it not an accident."

Hermione concentrated on the book carefully. It didn't move. Her parents and Professor Dumbledore watched her intently. A full minute passed and yet the book remained still. Hermione took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and with a careful and considerate thud, the book landed cover up on the floor.

Dumbledore nodded and smiled at the young witch. He took out his wand and levitated the book into his hands. He walked over to Hermione and handed her the heavy book, with a small, wax sealed envelope on top.

"See you next September, Miss Granger." The headmaster walked from her house and she watched as the intriguing wizard walked to the end of her road and then disapparated, which made her jump.

Her parents congratulated her and told them how proud they were. Hermione could tell they were still trying to wrap their mind around their daughter's abilities, based on the way they looked at her as if she were faraway. It didn't take long for them to accept it and become increasingly excited for the next school year.

The young Hermione looked down at the heavy book in her grasp. It was rather old and leather bound. On the cover embossed in large gold lettering, it said, _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot.

During her nearly year wait between Dumbledore's visit and her arrival at Hogwarts she read the book multiple times. Dumbledore, using a tawny owl, even delivered her more wizarding books, so that she could become acclimated to the new world she would enter.

Hermione set her letter carefully back in the box and thought back to Draco in her sitting room. He was out of his element. Between being in a Muggle home and having rescued her, Hermione realized how Draco must be feeling. Yet, she wasn't sure if she was ready to tell him what really happened to her parents. He had been a right prat to her most of her time at Hogwarts. _But yet he couldn't stand the torture…_

She sighed. But what if this was all an elaborate rouse to take credit for her capture himself. Despite his Slytherin cunning and upbringing, Hermione could hardly see Draco keeping the glory of her capture from his family.

"We don't have to be friends, you know?"

Hermione jumped at Draco's sudden presence. He was stood in between two coats, his head grazing the bar they hung from.

"How'd you find me?" she asked covering her letter with the blankets and scooting the box to the side.

"Your house is hardly a mansion, Clearwater." He stepped forward and sat against the wall across from her. His feet resting on opposite sides of her left foot. "Also, you left the door open. I could hear your sulking in the sitting room. It was maddening."

"You could've cast a silencing charm."

"That'd be too easy. Besides, I'd love to know what's got the Gryffindor Golden Girl in such a state." He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Malfoy...it's not a joke…"

"I never said it was. I've just never seen you this way. Except for when…" Draco's thoughts flashed back to the brutal torture. Hermione's screams still haunted his dreams; sometimes even when he was wide awake. "But...uh...let's not talk about that.

Hermione looked down at her scar. It was still pink from Draco's healing and she wondering if it would ever go away. She looked at the new skin beginning to grow around the edges of the wound and back up at Draco.

"I need you to vow that you will never tell a soul about this if I tell you. Despite our current situation, I can't complete trust you."

"I promise you, Clearwater. I won't tell a soul about your parents," he said quickly, holding up his hand as if he were taking an oath.

"No, Draco, I mean...an Unbreakable Vow…"

Draco stared at her in disbelief for a few moments.

"I think my word should be enough. I won't tell a soul."

"After what you put us through, after what you did last year, I can't trust you."

Draco sighed. He ran his hand through his hair.

"If anything, Clearwater, that should show I'm perfectly capable of keeping a secret."

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away from him for a few moments.

"You can't even call me by my bloody name, Malfoy!"

Draco looked down at his hands and shook his hand.  
"You don't understand…"

Silence fell in the closet for a few long seconds. Neither the Slytherin nor the Gryffindor dared to look at the other.

"Even if I wanted to, we don't have a Bonder," Draco said, breaking the silence, but still not looking at Hermione.

"I know a way around that," Hermione piped up. "It won't be as strong. If you break it, you won't die, but it will cause you immense pain. And, it can be called off. Once all of this is over, we can release the vow."

Draco sighed and looked around the room as if expecting an audience, yet, everything around them was silent.

"Fine," he said. "I have no one to tell anyway."

Hermione held out her hand. Draco clasped her hand firmly and nodded to her. She took out her wand and pointed it at their hands. A stream of red light wrapped around their hands, just like in the normal vow. Except, this flame lightened to a pinkish hue before dissipating.

"All right," she said. The witch took a deep breath and laughed sardonically. _Draco Malfoy, I'm telling Draco Malfoy what happened to my parents…_ "Muggle murders have been increasing lately, especially the parent's of Muggleborns. I thought that they would be safe. I'd lied to them about where I was, what I was doing...I thought that would be enough. But there was a Muggle couple who lived just the street over. The Death Eaters killed them. It scared me, it scared me so much…" Hermione began to cry at. She felt so pathetic. She hated crying, especially in front of Malfoy. Hermione clasped her mother's necklace between her fingers, mustering the strength to finish. "I erased their memories of me. I gave them new identities and sent them off to Australia. That way, if _he_ wins, they will be safe, at least for longer. And then, if I don't survive this war, they won't know…"

Hermione began to sob into her lap. Draco watched for a few moments, trying to decide what to do.

"I don't know what to say…"  
"Don't say anything."

Draco moved to her side of the closet. He looked down at her large mass of hair which completely shielded her face. He placed his hand over hers. It was the simplest of gestures, but Hermione stopped for a moment before turning towards him and resting her head on his chest.

Draco stiffened, he'd never been so close to Hermione Granger. After a minute or so, he relaxed slightly and moved his arm to rest around her shoulders.

Hermione had no idea why Draco was being so caring. It went against everything she had known before. There had to be another reason, a darker reason.

The two sat like that for an hour. Hermione's sobs had died down quickly, but neither had moved, as if they were welded together.

"Thank you."

Draco said nothing, but didn't move. That is, until he felt an intense burning in his left forearm. He drew it off of her Hermione's shoulders.

She looked at him oddly and sat up. Her tears were imprinted on his shirt and she used her wand to quickly clean it.

"My mark...it's burning."

"He's calling you?"

Draco nodded. He writhed around fitfully hoping the pain would go away, but knowing it wouldn't. He rolled up his sleeve to see the mark moving.

"I have to go," Draco said, standing up.

"No, absolutely not! He'll kill you!"

"Maybe," Draco answered. He burst through the rack of coats and back into the office. He began to cast a barrage of spells. Ones the Dark Lord would want to see. The office was a mess, a few things broken, but Draco didn't care.

Hermione followed him. She cleaned up his mess and stood looking at him defiantly.

"You aren't going! This is ridiculous!"

Draco shook his head and gripped his wand tightly.

"I have to. Listen, put up as many protective wards as you know. I won't apparate straight back here afterwards. Stay on alert and keep your wand with you. And if I'm not back by midnight, leave."

Hermione stood her ground, but before she could protest, Draco disapparated. She huffed and kicked the desk nearest where he had stood. However, she did as instructed and put up all the wards she knew.

With nothing else to do, she remembered Potterwatch was on that night. She found an old radio and with a little magical modification, she finally got tuned in, remembering the password from last week: _Dumbledore_. She listened, looking for any clues as to where Harry and Ron were. As the list of the dead began, she gasped as she heard Dobby's name. She brought her legs up to her chest and listened to the rest. Harry and Ron weren't dead. They had escaped they were somewhere safe.

Suddenly, Hermione heard Ginny's voice. Ginny had never appeared on Potterwatch before and her voice startled Hermione.

"This is for our friend, Hermione Granger. She was kidnapped by Draco Malfoy. We know you are still out there somewhere. If you are listening, we love you. Harry and Ron are looking for you. I know they will find you eventually."  
Hermione shook her head. They had stopped looking for horcruxes, or at least were distracted. This would throw off everything. Maybe that was Malfoy's plan all along.

The broadcast ended. The password for next week: _Granger_.

Draco found himself in a dark room. He didn't recognize where he was, but he figured that was probably the point.

"Draco," the snake-like voice said from behind him.

Draco turned around to see the Dark Lord standing just a few feet away from him. From what he could tell, Voldemort was alone.

"I've heard something rather curious about you. It involves a certain Mudblood, I believe her name is Hermione Granger. An ally of Harry Potter."  
Draco swallowed, hard. The calm in the Dark Lord's voice was what scared him the most. He could feel Voldemort's attempts to enter his head, but Draco fended them off effortlessly.

"I've brought you here to explain yourself."

"My Lord, the rumors aren't true. The Mudblood and I didn't run away together…"

"But you did save her from Fenrir Greyback, isn't that true? Your father told me himself."

"Yes, My Lord. I did." Before Draco could begin his explanation he was hit with a stream of red light and felt immense pain take over his body. When Voldemort relented, Draco found himself gasping for air.

"Why would you do such a thing?!"

"I thought she might be helpful. I think if I can fool her and make her think she can trust me, I can get some information out of her. She is after all, the Brightest Witch of Her Age."

The Dark Lord smiled. Draco wasn't sure if it was from his response or from some diabolical plan Voldemort had for him.

"Well, Draco, I must say you are quite a clever boy. If Potter hadn't been thrown off my trail because of the girl I would've killed you. But, Draco, listen to me very carefully, I want her dead in no less than two months. I'm being generous. I will summon you every week. If I find out you are lying, I will kill you. I hate to spill such pure magical blood, Draco. Do not disappoint me."

Draco felt his body relax. He had time. But he knew Voldemort wouldn't make it easy on him. The Snatchers would still be after them and probably a few Death Eaters.

" _Crucio!_ " He felt the curse hit him again. This time, it was completely unexpected and Draco felt it rack every bone in his body. Once it stopped, he felt as if he may never be able to stand again. "Like I said Draco, do not disappoint me."

The Dark Lord vanished and Draco found himself alone. He stood up, using all of the strength he had. He disapparated to the corner of the street, and despite having no idea where Hermione's house was, still found it rather quickly. He unlocked the door and collapsed straight onto the sofa.

a/n: Hello! Thank you so much for reading! Sorry for taking so long on this update. I do hope it was worth it ;). Please let me know what you thought! Also, we are getting closer and closer to 100 follows! I would love to get there before the next chapter. I honestly appreciate every single follow/favorite/review I get and I can't thank you guys enough.

-Alyce McKnight


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione crept out from the office that was once her bedroom. She saw Draco sprawled out on the sofa. His forehead wet with sweat, limbs limp, and his clothes wrinkled.

The witch approached him slowly, her wand drawn. She was honestly surprised he had returned. Whatever he had told Voldemort, it must have been enough to buy them time.

Hermione reached out and brushed some of his white-blond hair from his forward. She held her wand above his body to assess any damage. Before she uttered the incantation, his hand caught her wrist.

"I don't need any help," Draco said, his voice low and frightening. His grip on her wrist was deadly and she tried to pull it away, but it was futile. His face was pale and it seemed as if all of his features were beginning to melt off of it.

"Malfoy, what happened to you?"

"What the fuck do you think happened?!"

Hermione pulled backwards, his hand still wrapped around her wrist.

"Please let go," she pleaded.

Draco released her and sat back defiantly. With nowhere else to look, he found himself studying her face. The months of living on the run had changed her. Back at Hogwarts, she always looked so soft. Her hair, The curve of her jaw. Even when she looked at him, behind the glare, there was a something, some sort of softness... _pity_.

The softness wasn't gone. But rather hidden somewhere behind the mask of her usual expression.

"Malfoy, let me help you. The sooner I can heal you, the sooner we can get rid of each other."

Draco sneered. _Is that really all she wants? To get rid of me that quickly?_

"Listen, Clearwater, if you want to get back to Potter and his pet Weasel, so badly, why don't you just leave? I'm not going to stop you."

"You know it's not that simple, Malfoy. After you saved my life, I can't just leave you behind…"

"Oh, I see, now you choose to be appreciative! Honestly, don't bother! I only saved your life because I couldn't stand to hear you scream."  
Hermione went silent for a few moments. Her brown eyes widened. _There it is...the pity…_

"If...if you're scared that Harry will do something...I promise...I won't let anything happen to you once we find them. I'll talk to Harry, he'll vouch for you. I know he will."

Draco looked up at her with a look of disgust teeming from his gray eyes.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Draco sighed. "I'm not scared of Potter. I don't want to be in this situation anymore than you. But there is honestly nothing you can do to help me. Even if there were, I don't want it."  
Hermione crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. She lifted her chin higher, as Draco had often seen her do when she was getting frustrated with the other two thirds of the Golden Trio.

"I hate feeling like I owe you, Malfoy," she said. "Stop being such a Pureblooded prick and just let me heal you. Like I said, the sooner you get better, the sooner we get out of each other's hair."

Hermione raised her wand, this time above Draco's reach, and started muttering a few incantations. One to check for wounds and bodily damage, one to heal any open wounds, and one to help alleviate tiredness.

"Damn it," he said. "I don't need your help! I don't need a Mudblood taking care of me."  
Hermione immediately pulled away. He knew she'd be waiting for that bloody word to drip from his lips. He didn't mean it, in fact, he hadn't used the word since...since...

Draco found himself in the first floor girl's bathroom. It was the only place he could think of where he could be left alone without the Vanishing Cabinet staring down at him.

He sat against one of the far walls, his knees pulled to his chest and his face hidden among a tangle of his own limbs.

Draco hated crying. It made him feel weak, like he wasn't good enough, and if he wasn't good enough, he would die, and so would everyone he cared about.

But it was starting to become too much. The Vanishing Cabinet was a highly complicated object that normally took years to repair, and a highly skilled wizard. He'd read every book in the library on Magical Repair and the Vanishing Cabinet, only to still find himself stuck.

"Hello? Is there someone here? I know there is…" the shrill voice of the young witch pierced through the marble walls of the bathroom.

Draco felt the cold sweep over him as the girl came closer to him. She was silent then, which only made Draco feel more unease.

"A boy…" she said finally. "Ooh, a boy shouldn't be in here at all...But I always did like the bad boys… especially the ones who aren't afraid to show emotion."

Draco felt the ghost's hand on his shoulder. It was odd, he figured it would be cold, but instead it was warm. He looked up, catching the ghost's pale and bespectacled face watching him intently.

"Ooh, so handsome. I know who you are. I always hear all those Slytherin girls talking about you. But I must say, you look friendlier than I thought you would."

"Are you scared?," Draco choked out.

"No."

"You should be. I'm dangerous."  
Myrtle laughed; it was such a high-pitched and actually rather annoying laugh, but Draco couldn't help but crack a smirk.

"Oh goodness, Draco. I thought you were smart. I'm a ghost, there's not much you can do to hurt me. It's okay though, I might be a Ravenclaw, but intelligence isn't that important to me."

Myrtle shimmied beside him, bumping his shoulder as she did so.

Draco shook his head. He looked down at his left arm and and the white fabric that covered the black mark. He had no idea how much she knew. As a ghost at Hogwarts, she probably knew more about its students than the students themselves. He didn't know if it would be wise to tell her, or rather show her, but then again, who was she going to tell?

"Myrtle, I don't think you understand." Draco unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and pulled it up to reveal the ugly Dark Mark. The cool air stung his bare arm.

The ghost stared at it for a few moments, her eyes growing wide, before reaching out and touching the Mark. Her touch surprised Draco, but

"I've never actually seen one before," Myrtle said, quieter than her normal voice.

"Did it hurt? Getting it?"

Draco nodded. "A bit."

The pair went silent again. Myrtle had pulled her hand away from the Mark, but her eyes had never strayed.

The silence grew almost unbearable for Draco. It was embarrassing, having the ghost just stare at him like that. Draco pulled down his sleeve quickly, simultaneously standing up.

"That's enough! I'm not something to be gawked at!"

"Hmmm...touchy…"

Draco stood, his wand drawn, not exactly sure what he actually wanted to do.

"Why do you even like me?! You're the stupid Mudblood who got herself killed when the Chamber of Secrets opened the first time! You're supposed to hate me!"

Myrtle was taken aback. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and scurried quickly to one of the stalls. Her stall, in fact.

"If that's really how you feel," she sniffled. "Don't use my toilet again."

Draco felt guilt rush over him. He wasn't sure why, Myrtle was used to constant taunting from other students, and even Peeves. But it was just that, Forty years worth of Hogwarts students had tormented the poor ghost.

"Myrtle, I'm sorry. I didn't mean. I'm under a lot of stress…"

Myrtle's sniffling ceased and she flew up over the top of her cubicle and hovered in front of him. Her face was stiff, but as she examined him, it softened.

"I've never heard of a Malfoy apologizing before." She looked him up and down. "I guess, it's okay this time. But you must promise to never use that awful, ugly word again."

Draco curtly nodded.

"I promise."

"So, tell me, why is it that the famed Draco Malfoy was crying in my toilet?"

Draco told her everything. Joining the Death Eaters, the plot to kill Dumbledore, the pressure.

Myrtle listened intently. She didn't interrupt and simply sat next to him with her head propped on her knees watching the Slytherin's face as he talked.

When Draco was finished, he felt a sense of relief run through him. As if he were a dried out riverbed that was once again feeling the water run through it.

"Draco," Myrtle said gently. "We're different, but that doesn't mean we can't understand each other."

The Slytherin smiled for the first time in months and placed his hand over her pale ghostly one. She giggled, but Draco ignored it.

"Thank you, Myrtle."

He dropped her hand and headed towards the door. Before he made it back into the main corridor, he heard her call, "You're welcome to use my toilet anytime, Draco."

Hermione was long gone. He wasn't exactly sure when she had left. He remembered when she shouted at him, pulling out her wand to hex him, but deciding against it. He had stayed stationary and silent on her sofa the whole time.

The sun was beginning to shine through the windows. He hadn't slept at all, not that he really expected to.

Draco expected her to come back, but she didn't. Even as the sun reached noon, she was still gone. _What if something happened to her? Nonsense. She can handle it. But what if she couldn't._

He decided to leave. There was no sense in staying at her house. It probably wouldn't be safe in a few hours anyway.

Draco had only been to Muggle London once before, and that was simply walking to the Wizarding part of London. Of course, he'd been to the places Wizards and Muggles share, but dedicated Muggle London was new to him. It was different than he expected. It was less busy than Wizard London and actually somewhat peaceful. Nobody sneered at him as he walked by, or stared at him because of who he was. It was nice.

He made his way to a Muggle grocery store. He looked around, there were a few familiar things, such as sweets and fruits. But most things were strange. He knew what macaroni and cheese was, but how were you supposed to eat it if it was in a box?

Hermione heard the door of the grocery store open. She turned and saw a tall figure with white-blond hair and immediately ducked into one of the aisles. She fingered her wand in her pocket. _How the Hell did he find me?_

Hermione soon realized that Draco, has no idea she was there, and seemed disinterested in even looking for her. He was picking things off the shelf, examining them closely, and putting them back. It was almost comical watching the Pureblood interact with purely Muggle things. She had to contain her laughter when he picked up a miniature flashlight and shined it straight into his eyes.

Draco had picked up a couple sweets and was attempting to pay for them with galleons. The store clerk examined the coins and promptly returned them to the wizard. Draco was obviously growing frustrated.

Hermione knew that if she didn't intervene, the situation could grow dangerous, that or Draco would expose himself as a wizard to the Muggle.

Draco was reaching for the galleons and Hermione took the opportunity to cast a quick _Confundus_ charm on the store clerk and transfigured the two galleons into two pounds.

"Ah, out of two pounds," the clerk said, scooping the two coins into her hands. She handed Draco his change.

Draco peered over his shoulder suspiciously. Hermione ducked out his line of view. She knew he wasn't stupid, but it was fun to watch him try to figure out what happened. He walked out of the store. Hermione bought what was in her basket and walked out soon after.

She made sure that he was gone before rounding a corner and starting down the sidewalk. She had rented a hotel room under a different name. The hotel was only a few blocks away so Hermione opted to walk instead of apparate. The less magic she used, the better.

Besides, she liked Muggle London and her old neighborhood. They felt comfortable and safe, both feelings that were nearly foreign to her. She didn't feel magic constantly buzzing around her. While she quite enjoyed feeling the rush of magic, sometimes it was nice to feel like a Muggle again. Ignorant to the danger that lurked all around them.

The peacefulness was suddenly interrupted by a sudden sadness. The sky grew dark and everything felt bleak. The cobblestones below her feet turned grayer and the buildings suddenly held no color. She looked up to the sky and saw the cause. A small swarm of dementors loomed over the streets of Hermione's neighborhood. They began to move closer to the street, but something caught their attention and they zoomed downwards a few streets over.

Hermione took off running. It took everything in her power to not turn away as the sadness and gloominess increased. Once she reached the street the dementors had landed, she saw them. Five dementors stood on the dark street. However, they ignored her. That was odd. They should swarm to her.

Hermione moved backwards into the alcove of a shop door, She then caught a glimpse of what the dementors were so interested in.

Draco Malfoy laid cowering against a shop window. One of the dementors was holding him there and slowly moved forward. Draco's wand was on the sidewalk below him.

Hermione closed her eyes and thought of her happiest memory. Harry, Ron, and her, all sat in the common room. Harry and Ron engaged in a game of Wizard's chess, she had a textbook open on her lap. However, the memory soon morphed to all of them laughing. The chess game finished, the book abandoned. It was a simple memory, but simple memories were the best.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A silvery-white otter shot from the tip of her wand. The otter ran towards the dementors and they quickly soared back towards the sky and vanished.

Hermione walked over to Draco. He was on the ground still, panting with his eyes closed. She reached into her bag and pulled out a chocolate bar. She threw it haphazardly onto his chest.

"Now, we're even," she said, closing her bag and preparing to walk away. She turned and started down the sidewalk, knowing it wouldn't be long before witches and wizards flooded the area.

"Granger, wait."

And to both of their surprise, she did.

A/n: Sorry for the long wait! I hope the chapter was worth it! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Keep it up! I love hearing from my wonderful readers. Also, I haven't said this yet, but I don't own anything. All rights go back to J.K. Rowling.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hurry up!" Hermione half-shouted, half-whispered. She stood with her arms crossed, her wand sticking out from where her right hand still grasped it. They stood in an alley just a block from where Draco had been attacked by the dementors.

"Here," Draco said, handing the half-eaten chocolate bar to her. "You could use some too."

"Stop being ridiculous!" she said. "I'm not the one the dementors tried to kiss!" She uncrossed her arms and looked down the street where she saw a few Ministry workers examining the area in front of the shop where the dementors had been not even an hour before.

One of the Ministry workers was girl not much older than Draco and her. Hermione recognized the girl from Hogwarts. A year or maybe two above them. Ravenclaw. Her red hair was tied up into a loose knot on the back of her head and she wore a matching gray jacket and skirt and a purple shirt underneath.

Hermione watched as the workers scanned the area with their wands. They worked almost silently, only muttering hushed orders and findings to each other. The slight buzzing in her ears told her that a _Muffliato_ had been cast.

The red-headed Ravenclaw's eyes met hers and her eyes grew wide. She stood motionless for a few moments before sending up sparks with her wand. Her colleagues looking to see what the commotion was before they all bounded towards Hermione.

"Shit," she muttered. Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him up, dislocating her own shoulder in the process. She didn't have time to register the pain, but her eyes began to water. "We need to get out of here."

"I see that," Draco said, dryly.

She held onto Draco's hand and attempted to disapparate. But nothing happened. She closed her eyes and tried again, but, nothing.

Draco was starting to panic and tried himself; with the same results. The Ministry employees were gaining on them, stopping for a moment, stunned, when they saw Draco.

"Anti-Apparition charm," she said. They started running towards the other end of the alley. They came out on a relatively empty Muggle street. There were more Ministry employees now. They were shooting a multitude of binding and stunning curses at them, apparently wanting them alive.

Hermione and Draco shot back various curses to slow them down. They were even successful in stunning a few of them.

"Hermione Granger," someone said from nearby. "I know you."

Hermione stopped and saw a middle-aged woman standing in her yard. The woman wore her graying dark hair up in a bun, but many pieces had fallen loose. Striking blue eyes met hers and something told Hermione they could trust her. At the very least, two on one was much easier than fighting off a hoard of Ministry workers.

Draco's hand tightened around her own, signaling he didn't trust the woman. He cast a Disillusionment charm, hoping the Ministry employees didn't catch sight of the conversation.

"I have an old war shelter out back. Come on," the woman said, opening the gate and shuffling towards the back side of her house.

"This is supposed to protect you from wars?" Draco asked, looking down at the hole next to the house which led down a few feet and was barely wide enough for two people.

"Muggle wars," Hermione said. "This one is small compared to others I've seen. But for one or two people would've been adequate."

"All right, Miss Historian, get in. You don't have long before they realize who I am," the woman said.

Hermione wondered exactly who she was, but didn't hold off in climbing into the shelter. Draco jumped in after her.

"Have your wands ready, in case they find you."

She closed the door to the shelter and they sat in darkness except for the light coming through from the cracks in the door.

Hermione couldn't help but notice that their bodies were pressed against each other. Her feet and legs were between his legs and his arms rest on either side of her. She couldn't remember a time they were that close. Even in the closet the night before, they had been side by side instead of facing each other.

Draco adjusted pulling his legs against the wall and tried to pull his arms out from around the Gryffindor witch. But found that he once he pulled them from her sides, he had nowhere to put them but back around her.

"Don't you dare complain. She didn't have to help us," Hermione said, her voice starting to shake as the pain from her shoulder started to throb.

"I'm still not convinced this isn't a trap."

"Even if it is, two on one is much better than all those Ministry employees."

Draco scowled. "Not if she brings the Ministry here."  
Hermione bit her lip. She hadn't thought about that. There would certainly be a hefty reward from the Ministry if she turned them in.

The pain was beginning to become too much. Her vision was going white and all of her senses suddenly became focused on the pain. She began to slump against the wall slightly, between Draco and the wall, she knew she wouldn't fall, but she felt his arms tighten on her back.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

She swept her hair away and revealed protruding bone.

"When I pulled you up, it dislocated. If you had just gotten up yourself, it wouldn't have happened."  
"Now's not the time to be placing blame," Draco said. His right, wand hand, was trapped between the witch and the wall, but his left one was free.

"Put your hand over my mouth. Just keep me from screaming."

Draco smirked.

"I never knew you were so kinky, Clearwater."

Hermione's eyes widened. She blushed slightly, and futilely tried to create more space between them.

Draco brought his left hand up and held it in front of her for a few moments before leaning down close to her ear. His breath hot against her skin.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I like it."  
He placed his hand gently on her shoulder. A gold light transferred from his hand to her shoulder. Before he could finish, she pulled his hand away.

"Stop, they'll pick up on the magic."

"A healing spell's easier to explain than a silencing one."

Hermione couldn't argue with that. In fact, she was finding it harder to hate him. Most of the time he was a prat, but it was the moments like these where she was starting to question everything she had once thought about Draco Malfoy.

He was healing her without a second thought, even though healing her could get them caught. And he was _flirting_ with her. It was probably just because she was the only female in his age-group he had seen since he was at Hogwarts. But it certainly juxtaposed all of those times he made fun of her for her large front teeth or bushy hair.

The woman's voice was growing louder and Hermione could hear footsteps coming near them. Her hand tightened around her wand.

"Hurry up," she whispered. "They're coming."

Draco placed his hand back on his shoulder and finished healing their shoulder just as the voices became clearer.

"I honestly don't see why this is necessary," the woman who had helped them said.

"We thought we saw them come this way," someone, who must have been from the Ministry said. "Please bear with is Mariah, we promise we will be gone soon."

"What did the kids do anyway?"

"One is a Death Eater and one is a well known associate of Harry Potter."

"Seems odd they'd be together."

"Yes, very odd," the Ministry official agreed. "Now, you're sure you didn't see them?"

"No," Mariah said. "I heard the commotion and came outside to find you lot on my front lawn! I just want this blasted war to be over…" the witch's voice began to crack.

"We know it's hard after losing, Tim. All right, I guess those two are trickier than we thought. They were the Top 2 in their class at Hogwarts after all."

"Sorry for intruding, Mariah. But if you see anything, please let us know."

"Of course," she said. "I'll show you out."

Hermione released a breath she'd then realized she been holding.

"I guess you were right. As always."

Hermione smiled slightly. While the pain in her shoulder had completely subsided, her legs were beginning to fall asleep and the situation was growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment.

In a few minutes, the woman, supposedly named Mariah, opened the door. Light flooded into the room, causing Draco and Hermione to squint as they climbed out.

"I can't thank you enough," Hermione said.

"There's certainly no need," the older witch said. "I just want this sodding war to be over. I've seen you two in the news the past couple days. I think you are wonderful. A follower of Dumbledore and a Death Eater, stranger things have happened."

Hermione and Draco looked at each other with odd looks and then back at Mariah.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean?"

"You're in love! At least, that's what the Prophet's been saying. Although some say you kidnapped her, but based on what I just witnessed that doesn't seem to be the case."

Hermione didn't know what to say, but luckily, Draco began speaking before she had any words.

"We're not in love," he said matter-of-factly. "The Prophet's just spreading lies."

Mariah looked between the pair. Their wands still drawn and trying not to pay too much attention to the other one.

"It's a shame," she said. "A Death Eater and a Muggle-born could end the war."  
Neither Draco or Hermione said anything. They looked at each other again and then back at Mariah.

"I don't know how to repay you," Hermione said finally, shuffling through her bag.

Mariah walked over to the witch and lowered her hand and bag by placing her hand on Hermione's.

"There's no need. Just keep up the fight."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "We should probably be going. I'm sure the Anti-Apparition Charm has worn off by now."

"Nonsense," Mariah said. "You can stay here. Those Ministry goons won't be back until at least tomorrow. It's safe until then."

Hermione threw her arms around the woman. Draco stood awkwardly watching the pair.

"Thank you, but I think it's much safer if we just move on," Draco said, reaching to grab Hermione's hand to apparate.

"Malfoy! She saved us! The least we can do is keep her some company."

"Malfoy?" Mariah asked. "I should've known. You look so much like him."

Draco suddenly perked up, a scowl coming to his face.

"What do you know of my father?"

Mariah's face fell and tears came to her eyes. She pulled the shawl she was wearing protectively around her shoulders.

"He killed my husband."

Hermione gasped and pulled Draco backwards away from the woman.

"I'm so sorry for your loss. If you're uncomfortable having him here, we can leave. I have a hotel room."

"No, no," Mariah stammered. "Both of you are welcome. I can see he is nothing like his father."

Draco said nothing, but looked down at his dirty shoes in the freshly cut grass. Everyone else who said he was nothing like his father thought it was a bad thing.

Hermione made tea as Mariah told the story of her husband's death. Neither Draco or Hermione asked, but she insisted on telling it, it provided comfort that her husband's death wasn't in vain.

"He worked in the Ministry. He was part of the Magical Office of Law. That's actually how we met. When I was younger, I'd gotten into some trouble. You know, how we Squibs attract trouble. The day it happened, he had a meeting with the Minister, and he was so excited, saying everything was going to change. He came home that night, in a changed mood, he said the meeting hadn't gone well. That night the Death Eaters broke in. They killed him and...and…"

Draco stood up and left the room. He headed towards the guest bedroom where they would be staying for the night.

"I'm sorry, Mariah," Hermione said. "He's having some trouble adjusting."  
"It's quite all right. I should probably be getting to bed anyway. If you need anything, just let me know. I'm just down the hall."

Hermione nodded.

She waited for the woman to leave the sitting room before heading towards the bedroom she and Draco would share.

Hermione found him sitting on the bed, his hands in his hair, his eyes staring into the nothingness of the salmon colored carpet.

"She's right, you know. You're nothing like your father."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's obviously bothering you."

"So? Since when do my feelings matter to you?"

"I should be asking you the same question. Especially after you saved my life."  
"Listen, Clearwater, I'm not doing this right now."

"Back to Clearwater, are we?"

"It suits you."

"I'm nothing like Penelope Clearwater!"

Draco smirked.

"I never said you were. She was the girl dating the older Weasley, right? The one who was petrified second year?"

"Yes," she said. "She has remained pretty neutral, so I use her name a lot. Nobody seems to know who she is."

"Smart."

"I like to think so."

"You taking the bed?" Draco asked.

"If...you don't mind…"

Draco shook his head. "Chivalry isn't dead in Slytherin House."

Hermione smiled a bit before tossing a couple pillows onto the floor.

"I'll go see if Mariah has any extra blankets."  
Hermione walked across the room and to a closet near the door for the bathroom. Sure enough, there was a green fleece blanket on the top shelf. She grabbed it and tossed it at Draco, who was now sitting on the floor.

Hermione turned off the light and climbed into the queen-sized bed. It was the first time she had slept in an actual bed since the summer at the Burrow. She wished Ron was there. Even though he was idiotic sometimes, Hermione missed his well-timed humor and comforting arms.

"Malfoy, why didn't you cast a Patronus? I mean, I know you dropped your wand, but before then?"

Draco stayed silent. For a moment, Hermione thought he had already fallen asleep, but an uncomfortable rustling soon disproved that.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione asked.

"I don't have any happy memories," he said, in a raspy hushed voice.

Hermione laid, staring up at the ceiling, in shock for a few moments before throwing her pillow and blanket onto the ground.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, kicking her blanket off of himself.

Hermione laid down beside him and reached down and brushed her soft fingertips against the rough skin of his palm.

"Everyone deserves a happy memory."

Morning came much too quickly. They ate a quick breakfast with Mariah. Before leaving, she gave them extra food, blankets, and even a few extra pairs of clothing.

"One woman doesn't need all this," she said, as she passed them another box of tea.

"We can't thank you enough, Mariah. As soon as all of this is over, I'll come back and give you a proper thanks."

Hermione hugged the older woman and looked to Draco. He nodded and they took hands and disapparated with a _pop!_ Just as they left, Draco threw a handful of galleons on the kitchen table.

A/n: Thank you for reading! I hope to keep updating every week, but as university is now in full swing, I'm going to aim for at least every two weeks. I put off an essay for you folks! Anyway, I would just like to give a shout out to everyone who left reviews last time! It's more than I've gotten on one single chapter! Thank you and keep them coming! I love to know what you guys think. =)

Much Love,

-Alyce McKnight


	7. Chapter 7

A/n: Hello! So, I'm uploading another chapter after just _two_ days! This won't be normal, I just got an odd stroke of massive inspiration. My beta pointed out to me that the "Everybody deserves a happy moment" part made it sound like they did the "sexy times" which is NOT the case. It's much too early for that! ;) However, I've been meaning for our lovely couple to have a heart-to-heart of sorts, but I could never work it into a chapter. Thus, this chapter was born! I hope you enjoy it and please don't forget to tell me what you thought!

They apparated into an empty field. A forest surrounded them on all sides, the trees seeming to lean in on them. The grass in the field was nearly up to their knees, although Hermione was already wading through it towards the other end of the field, where the grass was matted down.

She let go of his hand in the process. He felt a sense of sadness rush over him as she drew her hand away. He instantly repressed it. He was simply lovesick, that was it. Granger just happened to be the only female around. There was no way that he actually felt anything towards the Muggle-born Gryffindor. Sure, her looks had improved a bit in the last few years, but she was still Granger. Insufferable, thick-headed, bush-haired Granger.

 _Everyone deserves a happy memory._

Her words lingered in his mind. The night before had been...surprising. Draco had no idea why Hermione would allow him so much sympathy. After everything he did to her. Bullied her, undermined her, and made sure confidence stayed low (although Weasley had been taking care of that for him for a couple years).

They were both broken. In different ways, but not beyond repair. Both were labeled, had lost the people who meant the most to them, and both were lonely...

Draco felt Hermione lay down beside him. It wasn't too close, but it was close enough to feel the heat radiate from her body and hear the way she shifted around before settling down onto her pillow. The ends of her light brunette hair teasing his cheeks.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Everyone deserves a happy memory."

Her fingertips brushed over his palm then. It something surging down his spine, Something electric.

He clenched his hand into a fist and kept it at his side. Whatever he was feeling, it was wrong, even though it felt right.

"Whenever I was feeling sad, my parents would always set up a tent in our back garden," Hermione started. "We'd lay outside all night and look up at the stars and eventually I'd end up forgetting about whatever it was that upset me."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. Why was she telling him all this? They were far from friends and he'd called her a Mudblood less than twenty four hours before.

With a quick flick of her wand, the roof suddenly disappeared, probably the work of some charm he didn't know about, and the night sky affronted them, lighting up the room.

"It's a full moon," she whispered. Her face dropped and she shifted so her body was closer together, as if she was cold.

Draco knew what she was thinking. Fenrir. If he'd turned her, she'd have turned for the first time that night. Even just the thought of Fenrir in his full werewolf glory, was terrifying, even to Draco.

The pair stayed silent for what felt like hours. They didn't even look at each other, their faces were glued to the glowing sky above them.

The room stayed warm, proving the invisible roof trick was obviously some sort of invisibility charm. He was impressed. Even Draco had to admit, the witch was talented.

"Harry knows-I know you wouldn't have killed Dumbledore. Harry said you lowered your wand." The witch shifted uncomfortably, although Draco wasn't sure if it was because of the topic or the floor.

"I don't care what you think of me."

"Then, why did you save me? If you don't care what I think."

"It had nothing to do with your opinion of me."

The pair went silent again. The stars really were mesmerizing that night. Twinkling and dancing through the night sky.

"Look there's your constellation, Draco."

Hermione pointed to the group of stars which had settled just above their heads. The head of the dragon and the tail spread across the sky, in fluorescent fashion.

"You know, in the mythology, one of the stories says the dragon ended up in the sky because he protected the golden apples of Hesperides with valor."

Draco couldn't help but crack a smile. It was just like Hermione Granger to try and comfort him with mythology.

"But in all the others he is defeated by a brave warrior."

Hermione smiled a bit, not enough to be showing any real happiness.

"And you, the Queen of Sicily, who uses her wit to convince the King of Bohemia to stay. Only to be accused of an affair and have her child abandoned. Then, to die heartbroken and unbelieved by her husband. Neither of us gets a happy ending."

Hermione perked up.

"You know Shakespeare?!"

"I'm a Pureblood. I'm not uncultured."

Hermione laughed, actually laughed. It wasn't just a giggle like most girls, it was all from the stomach, it was real.

"There was a Half-blood girl in the village near the Manor. She was older than me and obsessed with the bloke. I thought I'd give him a shot. I was surprised. I didn't know that Muggles could be so insightful."

"I think you'd be surprised," Hermione said, smiling. Her smile seemed permanently etched onto her face, as if it'd been there the whole time. "What was your favorite play?"

"Hamlet," Draco said. "Yours?"

Hermione nodded. She sat silent for a moment. Her face contorted in thought, the night sky shining down on her, highlighting the contours of her face. It made her look different. Not bad, just different.

"The Tempest," Hermione finally said. "Probably because it's the only thing that help me make sense of this war."

Draco smiled, although it was more of a smirk. He was slightly surprised. She expected her to pick one of the comedies or maybe _Romeo and Juliet_.

"You went to a village by the Manor as a kid? Was it a Muggle village?"

"Mixed, muggles and wizards," Draco answered. "Why does it matter?"

"I just don't understand how you can hate Muggles so much when you've interacted with them and seen that they are just like us, but without the magic."

Draco sighed, staring up at his constellation, hoping maybe his patron constellation could provide the right answer.

"It's not that I hate Muggles. They're inferior. There's a difference."

Hermione huffed, blowing some of the hair out of her face, and crossed her arms.

"Not much of a difference."

Another silence overcame them. It wasn't awkward, but a cloud of tension hung in the air around them.

His constellation had shifted across the night sky, indicating the passing of another hour. The dragon was now just over Draco's head, as if to suggest he was the object to be protected.

He felt her take his hand. Her small hand attempting to wrap around his larger one, but failing to do so.

"Shakespeare's a start," she whispered.

The witch was obviously growing tired. Her eyelids were beginning to droop and her body was starting to contort into a more comfortable position.

"We can both have a happy ending, you know? Our names...our marks...don't define what we can become."

"Go to sleep, Clearwater."

Within a few minutes, she was snoring softly beside him. Her hand still wrapped around his, but her body had shifted closer to him. Her messy mat of hair was close enough for him to smell her strawberry scented shampoo.

 _Everyone deserves a happy memory_. Her words flashed through his mind again. There were certainly things she could've done to make him happier...but despite their differences, despite his unwillingness and her sympathy, and despite every fiber in his being trying to ruin it.

It was a happy memory. Not happy enough to create a patronus and certainly not happy enough to wash away the fact everyone he cared about was a blood traitor or that he had kidnapped Hermione instead of saved her. But it was happy nonetheless.

Damn her. _Damn her._

A/n: There it is! Did you like it? I know it is shorter than normal, but then again, it is a bonus (and unplanned) chapter! Please let me know what you think! I just learned how to respond to reviews (I know, I know), so I plan on responding to the reviews I get on this chapter! Also, we are so close to 100 follows! Which is absolutely insane! Thank you so much and as always thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione stopped once they reached the shorter grass. She looked around for a few seconds before drawing her wand.

"Stand back," she said, holding out her arm to prevent Draco from moving any further. However, as soon as her arm came into contact with his chest, she pulled it back to her side. " _Erecto_."

A tent suddenly burst out of the ground. It was made of a tan-colored canvas material and was complete with a small stool and canopy outside the door.

Hermione placed up some wards and then disappeared into the tent; her hair the last part of her to dip into the tent.

Draco followed her. He was surprised when he stepped into the tent. It was much more elaborate than he had expected. The main part of the tent contained a table and chairs, a small stove, and even a small sofa towards the back. The very back part of the tent was reserved for a toilet. The other sides were separated by a curtain made of the same material as the tent itself. They both contained beds, one for each of them respectively.

"Impressive," Draco said under his breath.

Hermione smiled a bit and placed and her things on one of the beds. She used her wand to make her bed. She reached into her bag and grabbed out a few extra blankets.

"Here," she said. "I have a few extras."

"I could've transfigured something."

"Well, now you don't have to."

Draco took the blankets from her and made his bed, just as she had. He wasn't enjoying the new Granger. She was showing him too much sympathy. It wasn't like her. The old Granger would've found some new reason to hate him and he would've been content with that. It was easy to allow Granger to hate him; if she hated him, he would never have to admit that he didn't hate her.

Hermione now sat at the large table. A large piece of parchment was unfolded in front of her and she was studying it intently. As Draco drew closer he realized it was a map, and not just any map, a charmed one.

It was map of the United Kingdom, including Ireland. The water surrounding the islands moved at a rhythmic pace, although Draco noticed that in some places the water was faster or rougher, he realized that it was accurate to the current movement of the ocean. Important places were marked on the map by miniature 3D versions of themselves. In Northern Scotland, a tiny Hogwarts was mapped out. In London; Diagon Alley, Grimmauld Place, and the Ministry were mapped. In Devon, the Burrow stood with all of its disheveled glory.

Hermione touched her wand to a place in Wiltshire and a tiny version of the Manor sprouted from the map. She did the same a few feet to the right with Godric's Hollow and finally she added Hogsmeade.

"You made this yourself?" Draco asked astounded.

"I was working on during my free time with Harry and Ron. I haven't shown it to them yet. I was hoping that by mapping out all of the important places in our lives and in _his_ -" Draco didn't have to ask who she meant. He could easily see Little Hangleton marked on the map. "-life. I thought it might help us speed up our search or identify a new Horcrux." Hermione sighed, her shoulders falling and her expression studying the map. "Now, it should help us find Harry and Ron. Potterwatch wasn't much help. I guess that's rather good, but I have a couple ideas on where they might be."

She looked over her shoulder at Draco suspiciously. She used her wand to trace red lines that corresponded with her thoughts. She drew a line between the Manor and the Burrow, but quickly erased it. Then, between the Manor and Hogwarts, although she quickly muted the color and drew a line between the Manor and London, encircling the whole city.

"When Bellatrix was questioning me, she wanted to know how I got into her vault…" Hermione said, although Draco questioned whether or not it was aimed at him.

"Yes, because the Sword of Gryffindor was in her vault."

Hermione shook her head.

"We never broke into her vault. But if she was so worried about the sword, she would've just taken it back and killed me. There must be something else in there. Something worth protecting more than the Sword." Hermione's face lit up with realization. "That's it! One of the horcruxes! Do you know what's in her vault? Have you ever been there before?" Hermione's questions came quickly and there was hardly any pause for breath between them.

Draco shook his head.

"No," he said. "I have no idea. But I could get in, a well placed bribe and some name dropping should do the trick."

Hermione's face lit up.

"That could work! I bet Harry and Ron are going to try and get in too! If we can meet up with them, maybe we can end this war!" She excitedly placed her wand to the parchment and the map folded into a small square that she shoved into her jeans pocket.

"But we need to figure out how I'm going to get in, I can't show my face in Diagon Alley without casualties." Hermione's eyes dropped to her bag. She began to rifle through it.

"Well, what about me? I'm no less wanted than you are right now. I at least need something to get me into Gringrotts. Got any wigs or disguises in there?"

Hermione pulled out various articles of clothing until she came upon a hat. It was black and quite simple, something that would compliment Draco's already black attire.

"We could put a Disillusionment Charm on the hat and it would hide your identity until it's taken off."

Draco nodded and took the hat from Hermione's hands. He set it aside before looking to the witch herself. It would take more than a simple Disillusionment charm to conceal Hermione. If they had Polyjuice Potion he would allow her to act as him and they could transfigure him, but he knew if they had Polyjuice, Hermione would've spoken up.

"The only thing I can think of is to transfigure your main features. It wouldn't last long and would have to be carefully monitored. But it's the only thing that will completely conceal you, other than an Invisibility Cloak." He raised his eyebrow, a smirk playfully falling from his lips. "You don't happen to have Potter's Invisibility Cloak in there do you?"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, I'm sure they plan to use it somehow to get into Gringrotts. I think transfiguring is our only option if we want to move quickly. I think if I cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself, I think I should be able to maintain it until we're in the vault."

Draco noticed the shift in light on the wall of the tent. He peeked outside and noticed the sun beginning to set. _Have we really been planning all day?_

"If we plan to do this tomorrow, we need to get to sleep," Hermione said also noticing the setting sun. "We should sleep in shifts, just in case anyone followed us here."

Draco nodded. "I'll take first shift. Go to sleep, Clearwater."

Hermione went to her bed and closed her eyes. She didn't fall asleep for what felt like hours, but in reality was only about a half hour. She found herself in a fitful sleep.

" _Ron!" she screamed. The redhead wizard was backed into a corner. She couldn't tell who their assailants were, as their faces were covered by large black hoods._

 _Harry stood next to Ron, his green eyes apologetic and sympathetic. Hermione soon realized the black hooded figures were not in fact people, but bars. Enchanted bars separating them. They unable to rescue Hermione, Hermione unable to save them._

 _The red jolt of light came out of nowhere and hit Hermione square in the chest. She could feel the pain rake through her body. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Every muscle, bone, fiber of her body felt like it was being ripped apart, reassembled, and then torn apart again. It felt like dying, it felt like heartbreak._

" _We know where they are…" a disembodied and snake-like voice echoed. "It was quite clever, hiding them in Australia where you thought we wouldn't look. I wish you could've heard their screams. They put up a fight for the daughter they never knew they had…"_

Draco had only set guard for an hour and a half when he heard her screams. Clutching his wand tightly, Draco rushed into the tent and into Hermione's room.

Her eyes were still closed, but she was screaming, her body writhing around as if she were under the _Cruciatus_ Curse. Sweat had gathered on her forehead and her screams devolved into frantic cries.

"Granger," Draco said, her actual last name rolling off his tongue for the second times in forty-eight hours. "Wake up! It's just a nightmare."  
Hermione's eyes shot open. She saw Draco's concerned face looking back at her and felt her muscles relax, but she still struggled to catch her breath.

"He knew where my parents were," she said. "You don't think he actually does, do you?"

Draco looked down at the witch. Her eyes were full of fear and her face was contorted with worry. It was possible Voldemort knew where her parents were. Draco didn't believe the Dark Lord would waste his time travelling to Australia just to kill some Mudblood's parents. Of course, this wasn't just some Mudblood. It was Hermione Granger.

Why send her the nightmare then? A fear tactic? The Dark Lord certainly wouldn't be above it, but again, it seemed pointless. Unless, the Dark Lord knew he was dying, and quickly at that, if he became desperate. He also doubted Hermione was skilled in Occlumency. Not that she didn't have the capability, but it wasn't normally taught at Hogwarts, the only reason he was skilled in it was because of Bellatrix and Snape. Between the two of them, they had managed to teach him everything he knew about Occlumency. It had saved his life, and the lives of others, on many occasions.

"No, of course not," he said. Draco wasn't too sure about his words. The next time he met with the Dark Lord, he would try to mention it without breaking the Vow with Hermione. He needed to know if her parents were danger, because if they were, it would ruin everything he had worked for.

Hermione eased slightly at his words. She reached for her bag and grabbed out a nearly full bottle of Firewhisky. She opened it and took a swig and almost immediately relaxed.

Draco smirked.

"I didn't know you were a drunk, Clearwater," he said reaching for the bottle and taking a drink himself.

"I'm not a drunk, Malfoy," she said, grabbing the bottle back and taking the bottle back. "I just have it for medicinal purposes."

"Right," Draco said, stealing the bottle back. "So you won't mind, if I…" Malfoy took a large drink, emptying the bottle halfway.

"Now, who's the drunk?" Hermione said crossing her arms over her chest.

"Never said I wasn't," Draco said, taking another drink.

Hermione lunged for the bottle grabbing hold of the bottom. She wrapped her fingers around it, her fingertips brushing against the side of Draco's hand.

"Come on, at least save me some," she said. "I just need it to get back to sleep. Besides, you're supposed to be on watch duty."

"I'll just put a few extra wards," he said. With the flick of his wand and the muttering of a few incantations, the entrance to the tent snapped shut and a pleasant warmth spread over them. "My mother was great at wards. She taught me well."

Hermione glared at him, but used the opportunity to slip the bottle from his grasp and finish it so only the very bottom was still filled with the amber-colored liquid. She took her wand and quickly re-filled it.

Draco smiled.

"I like the way you think, Clearwater."

They spent the night drinking and refilling the bottle. There was no real conversation, other than a taunt every now and then. Once the two had finished their third bottle, both were feeling the buzz. Their minds preoccupied and slowly getting sleepier.

The two sat slouched against Hermione's bed. The bottle-half full-between them, although neither reached for it.

"You want to know the real reason I rescued you?" Draco asked.

Hermione turned her body so that her shoulder was against the bed and she was facing Draco. Despite her inebriated state, she still perked up.

"I envy you. I always have. You have everything I wanted in life, everything I thought I deserved. But when I saw Bellatrix torturing you, I couldn't take it. Even though I envied you my entire life, even though you proved yourself better than me in almost everything, I couldn't let you get turned over to Fenrir. Not even Harry Potter deserves that."

"Draco…" she said, saying his first name for the first time in Merlin knows how long.

"Shh…" Draco interrupted. "You probably won't remember this in the morning anyway. Hopefully you won't."

"Worried your pride will be hurt when I can actually form a coherent retort?" she asked smirking.

"Something like that."

The two grew sleepy and before long Hermione's head drifted onto Draco's shoulder. It was impossible to see who leaned in first. It was mutual, it was if they were magnets, slowly being attracted to each other.

Their lips pressed together in a messy fashion. It didn't last long before Draco pulled away. Immediately regretting his actions, he scooted slightly away from Hermione, although he still allowed her head to rest gently against his shoulder.

"Go to sleep, Clearwater. We have a long day ahead of us."

"Don't worry," she said, her eyelids drooping. "I won't remember anything in the morning."

A/n: Thanks everyone for reading! As you can tell, the plot will not be completely compliant with canon. The Battle of Hogwarts will not happen when it did the books, etc. However, many events, like breaking into Gringrotts will still happen, I'm just messing with the timeline a bit. Everything leading up to Hermione's rescue is compliant with canon. Anyway, let me know what you think so far! Any predictions? I love to hear from all of you! -Alyce


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione's eyes shot open. Her breath catching in her throat. She was on the cot, a blanket was thrown haphazardly over her body, covering only her torso and thighs. Her hair was sprawled over the pillow, but something was different.

The pillow and blanket were hers. But they didn't smell right, they smelled like evergreen trees and stale water. _Him._

She sat up, the blanket falling off the cot, and it all came back. The haziness of her head, the crick in her neck, her chapped lips…

Her eyes widened and the taste in her mouth turned sour as she remembered his taste. She sat up quickly and ran her hands through her bushy hair. She wondered if it was possible to Oblivate one's own memory; promising herself to look it up later.

Hermione could hear Draco rustling around in the main part of the tent. She glanced down at her bag at the end of the cot and the half-empty bottle of Firewhisky. Despite him saving her life, she couldn't fully trust him. When she had recovered from the _Cruciatus_ , Hermione had half-expected Draco to run off or maybe worse. And now, now that they had kissed, he could blackmail her, or use it to ruin any shred of a reputation she had.

Thinking of all the terrible possibilities made her head hurt. She stood up and carefully shrunk down her bedding and placed it back into her bag. She did the same with the bottle of Firewhisky, making sure to completely re-fill it first.

Draco stood fully dressed. His once torn and dirty clothes were fixed and cleaned. His hair was combed and washed. The white-button down he had dyed black and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his Dark Mark.

"Good, you're up. He threw her a set of clothes she had never seen before. A black button down paired with a knee-length emerald green skirt topped off with a set of emerald green robes. The pattern on the robe was intricate, the seal of Slytherin predominating, however, when Hermione looked on the underside of the robe, it was lined with gold silk.

"Where did you get these?" Hermione asked, her mind suddenly wondering if Draco had left and murdered some poor witch for her clothes.

"I transfigured the spare bedding. We'd be caught the second we walked through the door if you were dressed like that." His eyes roamed from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. A smirk broke out across his face. "Unless, you wanted to act as my…" Draco moved closer to her now his face coming within inches of hers. He leaned down near her ear, his lips brushing against her skin as he whispered, "...whore."  
Hermione pushed him away. Her expression twisting to one of disgust. She headed back to her bedroom to change, but just before disappearing behind the curtain, she targeted a quick Stinging Jinx at Malfoy's legs.

She had just gotten behind the curtain when she heard him yelp in pain. Hermione couldn't help but smile. _Wanker._

The clothes looked odd on her. While they weren't out of the ordinary for someone in the Wizarding World, she couldn't help but feel unlike herself. Which, she figured, was exactly the point.

Taking out a mirror from her bag, she started to work on transfiguring her appearance. She first paled her skin and added a dappling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her eyes turned from brown to green; and her bushy, mousy brown hair to wavy red hair that flowed down her shoulders. She was satisfied with her temporary appearance. While she looked like a stranger, Hermione could still herself somewhere among the emerald eyes and Weasley-colored hair.

She emerged from behind the curtain. Draco was waiting for her a half-eaten apple in his hand and another on the table beside him. He nearly laughed when he saw her appearance.

"Is that what you think a Death Eater looks like?" he asked, taking a bite of the apple, it's scent filling the air.

"What? Not all Death Eaters have to look like stuffy pricks with sticks up their arse," she answered. _Two can play that game._

Draco frowned and pointed his wand at her hair. It promptly changed from bright red to a deep, Dementor black. The freckles remained, but faded slightly. Her eyes, however, didn't change.

"No, self-respecting Pureblood has red hair." His voice sounded more like a raspy growl. There were dark circles around his eyes and his eyes were slightly bloodshot, clearly signs of a hangover. Yet, he looked more like the Draco she used to know. The one back at Hogwarts. She thought he had changed, but maybe he was the same Draco.

"You're a real tosser, you know that?" she said, glancing at her new reflection in the mirror. She did certainly look more like the conventional Death Eater. Black hair, pale skin. A shiver ran down her back.

"Tell me something I don't know," he said, frowning. He held out his arm to her. 'Let's get this over with." He put on the hat. His face was still visible, however, it was absolutely impossible to find out his identity without taking off the hat.

Hermione took his arm and Draco apparated them. Within seconds, her feet hit cobblestones. The alley was dark and she instantly tensed when she realized Draco had not apparated them to Diagon Alley.

"Knockturn?" she asked, glancing around to make sure the Disillusionment charm she had cast as soon as they had landed worked. While they were drawing some attention, she realized it was because of the Dark Mark Draco displayed openly.

"Obviously," he said, dryly.

She felt his gaze on her as they approached the merge point to Diagon Alley. Hermione wondered if the transfiguration was already starting to wear off on her features. She shot a quick spell up to her face, but nothing changed.

Draco leaned down near her ear again. However, this time it felt different. His breath was more controlled, his lips farther away.

"Walk straighter; act like you own the place. Hold your head up higher. The Disillusionment is only allowing you cast the spells, remember." His voice was no longer the growl it had been before. It had returned to normal, or at least he wanted her to think it had.

Hermione nodded and immediately altered her mannerisms. She didn't want to tell him that she was imitating the way Pansy used to flaunt around Hogwarts, as if the school were her own personal toy box and all the students merely her dolls. It gave her a secret pleasure to know that her worst Hogwart's bully was the one to inspire her pungent countenance.

The pair approached Gringrotts. The street growing busier. People stopped and stared, pulled their children away, parted as if they were the Red Sea. Hermione felt Draco's arm tense underneath her hand. She tried to keep her countenance, however, seeing the fear in the people's eyes and the way they clutched their children. It broke her heart.

Draco took off his hat when they entered the bank. He handed it to Hermione who scrambled to put it in her bag. The witch was obviously terrified. Despite putting on a fairly convincing performance, her hands still shook and he could see the anxiety in her eyes.

The goblins all turned to face him, their eyes widening and a flurry of whispers erupting. Draco had expected a reaction, but the goblins were looking at him as if he were dead. _Maybe he was…_

The walk across the ornate marble floors felt like an eternity. Every step echoed around the large hall as if the building itself were surprised to see him walk through the door.

He caught a flash of light but realized it was just Hermione keeping up the transfiguration. No one else seemed to notice. It was odd looking at her. She looked exactly like someone he could've grown up with, but instead it was Hermione Granger, a girl so different from the girls of his childhood.

They reached the counter. The goblin sitting there was already staring at Draco in disbelief.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said his voice shaky. "To what do we own the pleasure?"

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It had taken him nearly the whole morning to write something that would look like it came from his aunt. He handed it over to the goblin.

"My aunt actually," he said. "She needs me to retrieve something from her vault. I'm sure that will be no problem."

Draco made sure his Dark Mark was fully visible as he drew his wand. He didn't cast a spell, but he knew that his capability of the _Imperio_ curse was no secret.

"That would be no problem, Mr. Malfoy. But we just let you and a friend into her vault not ten minutes ago."

He felt Hermione's hand tighten around his arm.

"What do you mean?! They were obviously an imposter! This is ridiculous! I demand to be let in!" He held his wand against his Dark Mark. "I highly doubt you want the Dark Lord to settle this." His gaze was intense and deadly.

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Malfoy," the goblin said. "Obviously this is just a misunderstanding."

Draco nodded, pulling his wand away from the skin, but keeping it firmly in his grasp. Hermione was starting to lose her composure, her walk was becoming bouncy and excitable. Her true personality starting to come through.

He helped her into the cart and then climbed in afterwards, the goblin climbing in last. The ride started out fairly typical. But halfway through, the cart stalled and the three were ejected from the cart. Hermione stopped them inches from the ground.

"Thanks," Draco murmured.

"The Thief's Downfall," the goblin said. "Thieves! You're all thieves!"

The goblin began to walk away, but Draco quickly cast an _Imperio_ on the goblin; commanding him to guide them to Bellatrix's vault.

He saw Hermione was back to normal. Her mass of curls overtaking her small form. He couldn't help but smile. The bedding he had transfigured for her clothes had once again turned into bedding, which Hermione was frantically trying to tie around herself.

"I thought you'd at least be able to keep up a simple transfiguration," he said smirking.

Hermione blushed and avoided his gaze. The sheets, while sufficiently covering her, had slipped off her shoulders, the dim light bouncing off her skin delightfully.

"It wasn't me," she said. "I think when we fell it's enchanted to get rid of any existing enchantments." Hermione pulled her wand from the mess of bedding and quickly transfigured them into something more sensible. _Something more Hermione_. The sheets turned into a pale pink jumper and a pair of jeans.

The rest of the walk was dank and cold. The goblin walked blissfully under the _Imperius_ , it was almost comical. Hermione, however, was walking as if every step was a journey. Not ten minutes before, she had been walking with such a bounce in her step.

They reached Bellatrix's vault, the door already open. Various valuables, mostly cups, were spilling from it.

Hermione climbed out before Draco could say anything. She dived into the vault and disappeared from his sight. He followed her and soon felt himself tackled by a large mass.

"Harry! I thought you were buried!" the redhead climbed off of him.

Draco sneered at him, suddenly realizing that Harry must have used Polyjuice. Hermione emerged from the overflowing valuables, dragging up a pale blond head with her.

Ron glanced at Hermione in disbelief and then back at Draco. Ron's wand was at his neck before he could react.

"Stop!" Hermione screamed. "This isn't the time! We have to get the horcrux!" Harry, still disguised as Draco, began to climb towards the top of the mountain where an ornate cup sat. Hermione scrambled after him.

"This isn't over, Malfoy!" Ron said as he withdrew his wand hesitantly. His gaze was locked on Draco, his breath heavy and beads of sweat ran slowly down his forehead.

"I'd expect nothing less," Draco said standing up and flinging some of the still multiplying cups to the side. "Let's just try to live through this first."

"Stop moving!" Hermione shouted. Everyone stopped and the cups ceased to multiply until Harry slowly creeped towards the cup, the valuables starting to overcome in. Within seconds of him disappearing underneath the cups, he emerged holding the horcrux.

Griphook, who Draco had failed to notice earlier, grabbed the cup from his hand. Harry looked up at him stunned. Draco couldn't hear the exchange, but the goblin soon fled with the Sword of Gryffindor in hand. Hermione now holding the horcrux.

Draco started back towards the entrance of the vault and tried to clear a path, but every time he cleared away 10 cups, twenty more sprung up in their place. He reached the door first and used magic to try and clear it the best he could.

Ron bumbled out first with Hermione just behind, still holding the cup and finally Harry, back to his normal self. The cup wasn't the only thing Hermione was holding. Her and Ron's hands were clasped firmly in each other's.

Draco felt a slight annoyance. It wasn't like he was blind. Weasley had liked her for years and she had felt the same. _How else would've he made Keeper…_ But yet, something didn't feel right about the pair. Hermione was smarter, more competent than Weasley. Hermione was too rigid, too stern for someone like Ron.

"Hermione…" the other two boys said at the same time. They enveloped her in a hug. Draco rolled his eyes, but before he could open his lips to complain, jets of light flashed towards them. All four drew their wands.

The bank guards outnumbered them immensely. There was no way the four of them, although talented, could hold them off for much longer. A curse grazed Draco's arm and sliced open his shirt, warm blood coming to the surface and saturating the fabric around it. The blood began to run down his arm, but he ignored it and fired off another curse, one of the guards falling to the ground, stupefied.

"Got any ideas, Hermione?" Ron asked, firing off a curse.

"One, but it's mad. Hold them off," she said. She backed up and shouted, " _Reducto!_ " The railing on the platform blasted into pieces and Hermione ran towards it, jumping onto the dragon's back. The dragon wretched backwards, but Hermione held on.

One by one, the boys jumped onto the back of the dragon, dodging the curses from the bank guards. With a flick of her wand, Hermione prompted the dragon to rise up and up, until it blasted through the roof of Gringotts.

With plaster in their hair and a few cuts and bruises each, the quartet clung to the dragon. The ride was blustery, but it gave them all a new rush. For some the rush was more beneficial than for others…

They landed just outside Hogsmeade. Hermione cued the dragon to land them just outside the cave Sirius hid out in during their third year.

The dragon flew off turning and somersaulting in the air happy to once again have it's freedom. Hermione watched it go, smiling.

"Malfoy!" Ron shouted drawing his wand.

"Yes, Weasley?" Draco asked.

Ron didn't answer, instead he fired a curse. Draco easily deflected it and fired another back at him.

"Woah, Ron, give him a chance to explain!" Harry said, pushing firmly against Ron's chest.

"What's there to explain?! Malfoy kidnapped her!"

"But she's back and she's fine," Harry said. "It doesn't make any sense, Malfoy. What happened back at the Manor?"

"I don't owe either you an explanation. If I hadn't stepped in, Greyback would've turned her! I can't help that you're incapable!"

"We were locked in _your_ cellar!"

"Yes, and if you were capable you wouldn't have let it get that far! I can hardly help your lack of competence! You should be grateful. I gave up my good name and my status to help out you ungrateful bastards!"

Ron's face was growing redder with every word that spewed from Draco's mouth. His knuckles growing white as he clutched his wand tighter and tighter.

Hermione walked into the cave and came upon the tense scene. The cheerful expression on her face soon changed to one of worry.

"What's going on here?"

"Malfoy's about to get his arse kicked!"

Ron fired off another curse which bounced off the cave wall and disappeared into the ground. Hermione pulled out her wand intending to sweep both boys off the ground.

" _Sectumsempra!_ " Ron shouted.

"No!"

The white light emerged from Ron's wand and headed straight for the Slytherin wizard. Draco narrowly escaped the curse, the light bouncing off the stone wall behind him.

The curse redirected and the Chosen One fell to the ground; blood beginning to soak through his shirt.

 **A/n: I know, I know, it's been much too long! I hope this chapter was worth it though! Draco's dark side has once again returned! Let me know what you think!**

 **-Alyce**


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